


False Idol

by pluto



Category: Mass Effect
Genre: Kinkmeme, M/M, Mildly Dubious Consent, PWP
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-03
Updated: 2012-07-03
Packaged: 2017-11-09 02:59:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,876
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/450512
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pluto/pseuds/pluto
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>James Vega has looked up to Commander Shepard for a long time, and getting the  commander's attention means a lot to him.  But when Shepard's interest turns inappropriate, James finds himself in a very uncomfortable--and oddly thrilling--position.  Written for kinkmeme; warning for dubcon.</p>
            </blockquote>





	False Idol

**Author's Note:**

> ....Yeah. I have no excuses for myself. /vaguely embarrassed/
> 
> Written for the (rather fantastic) kinkmeme prompt: _We all know Vega kind of looks up to Shepard (don't think it needs to be said, but obviously I don't mean in a Conrad Verner sort of way)._  
>  _To Vega, Shepard is the best of the best, the hero of the citadel and pride of humanity, and he greatly respects that. So when he actually meets Shepard he's surprised to learn he's not at all what the posters made him out to be. He's harsh and intimidating, he speaks every word with authority and doesn't take bullshit. And that's all fine, Vega eventually grows to respect the tough as nails badass Shepard really is more than he ever did the stoic hero the Alliance made him into._ _That is until Shepard starts making moves on him. Nothing too noticeable at first: Maybe when they first spar, Shepard shamelessly gropes his ass or something. But as his advances become more and more graphic, Vega finds himself in an uncomfortable situation. When he really thinks about it, Shepard is pretty good looking, but Vega's not really sure if wants this, or even if he's into men. But Shepard, being the semi-evil dick he is, doesn't care. He's ready for sex, and isn't taking no for an answer._ _I don't think this would work so well without Shepard toping, so let's have that. Mega bonus points for Vega getting really into it despite protesting at first, Shepard dirty talking and taunting Vega for liking it so much, and making him beg for more._  
>   
>  _Oh, and I'd really, really love to see some sort of corrupted relationship Shepard has with Kaidan on the side, 'cause SexSlave!Kaidan would be amazing._

There were times, on his way back to Earth, that James Vega imagined telling the great Commander Shepard how he once kicked the asses of a whole squad of batarians in Shepard's name. The fantasies inevitably involved Shepard buying him a drink and telling the whole bar how glad he was to have a man like James watching his six, and often as not ended with the two of them picking up a pair of hot asari for an extremely good time. 

All that ended when James finally met the man himself. 

Which was not to say that the real Commander Shepard wasn't a man still worthy of a good bar brawl. He was. Absolutely he was. He was just also a little intimidating, and no-nonsense, and kind of a hardass. James wasn't certain Shepard ever set foot into any bar without having some duty there, and he certainly wasn't the buy-you-a-round kind of guy. Even while in custody Shepard had a way of speaking that made James want to snap-to. 

"It's funny," he confessed to Cortez after a few runs with Shepard on the Normandy, "I think I respect him even more than the big wartime hero version they're selling on the Alliance News Network. Shepard's the real deal."

"Think you're in love, Mr. Vega." 

"Hey, just because _you've_ got a big boner for him, Esteban..." 

Cortez laughed. "He _is_ better looking than his extranet pictures. And when he's barking your name--"

James grinned and did his best Shepard impression. "'Take us in, Cortez.'"

"Yeah, that's the stuff. And, I gotta admit, I admire a man who can put you in your place, Mr. Vega."

James covered a wince. He'd let his little nickname for Shepard slip after losing a sparring match. The Commander had been less than amused. "I would've won that fight if--"

"--If you weren't so distracted by the view?"

"You're confusing me with you again, _pendejo_. And--" 

The lift doors opened, disgorging the Commander himself, severe and forbidding as ever. James swallowed his words and the urge to salute, hastily doing his best to look busy. Because somehow it didn't do to be standing around gossiping like a couple of old biddies while Shepard was on deck. He began taking apart an Avenger rifle just as Shepard stopped beside him. 

"Hey," James said, nodding at Shepard. "Something I can do for you, Commander?" 

Shepard moved in close, frowning down at the Avenger on James' bench. "What's this?"

"Damn thing keeps misfiring. It's just got a warped pin, here. Give me fifteen minutes and I'll have it sorted out." 

James almost jumped when Shepard's hand landed heavily on his shoulder, squeezing once. Ridiculously, he found himself in fight-or-flight mode, and tried to relax. It was just Shepard. Just Shepard, who was always professional and proper and had never laid a hand on anyone unless fighting them. Maybe the Doc or someone had spoken to him about being more "collegial" with the crew. James felt thoroughly awkward.

"Good work," Shepard said. 

The hand migrated down James' back, brushed his ass, and then was gone. By the time James recovered himself, Shepard was gone, too, striding over to talk to Cortez as if nothing had happened. 

Nothing _had_ happened, James told himself. Shepard had given him a pat on the back. Literally and figuratively. Great. Wasn't that always what he'd wanted, on some level? And so maybe the Commander's hand had slipped a little letting go. Probably Shepard was as embarrassed about it as James was. No big deal.

#

No big deal, James repeated to himself, when Shepard's hand landed on his knee in the middle of supper. Which _was_ a big deal--Shepard sitting down with the entire crew, not eating up in his cabin like usual. Half the crew was sneaking sideways glances; even with as many missions they had been on together, the shine of working with Commander Shepard had yet to wear off. 

Unfortunately, the meal was a lot more silent and awkward than James would've liked. He was sitting across from Kaidan Alenko, who had just come aboard the Normandy not two days ago; and oblivious as James could sometimes be, even he could sense the tension in the air between Shepard and the major. 

Garrus seemed to be the only one still capable of cracking jokes--even raising the occasional smile out of Shepard--but he was farther down the table, and mostly chatting with Liara. 

James was halfway ready to ask Shepard why he'd even let Kaidan back on board if they were still this pissed at each other when the hand came down on his knee. There was no squeezing, this time, just Shepard's fingers curled over the top of James' leg. James had a bite of Crewman Shepley's lousy excuse for huevos rancheros most of the way to his mouth and nearly dropped it. 

When he looked over at Shepard, the Commander's eyes were locked to Kaidan's. Something in his expression made James think better of first impulse to blurt "What the hell, Loco?" and shove Shepard's hand aside.

So he told himself "No big deal" and tried to keep eating. Which was hard, really hard, and he almost exploded with relief when Shepard finally stood up and left. Kaidan took his tray away a moment later, and Cortez scooted over to fill the void. 

"That was weird," Cortez muttered. 

James shook his head. "You have no idea."

"Oh yeah?"

And for a moment, James almost spilled; he'd always been able to talk to Cortez about anything. But he remembered the look on Shepard's face and thought better of it. He shook his head. "The food's terrible tonight, isn't it? _Asqueroso._ " 

When Cortez only raised an eyebrow and let the subject drop, James was impossibly grateful. 

#

But there was no way for James to just blow off what happened a week later as "no big deal." It was late, the third watch, and James hadn't been able to sleep. So he did what he usually did when he needed to kill time and excess energy: he went down to his space in the shuttle bay and worked out. At that hour nobody was around, so he could go as hard and as loud as he liked, without Cortez providing commentary or one of the younger crewman drifting by to stare. Not that James necessarily minded either, when he was in the mood. 

He was doing pull ups when he heard the lift open, but he didn't pay it much mind other than to tone down his grunting, assuming it was someone doing rounds. The hand on his ass a few seconds later startled him so much he almost let go of the pull up bar. He would have dropped down anyway--the better to deck whoever thought it was funny to have a free grab at him--but then Shepard spoke.

"Thought I might find you down here."

James froze while his brain tried to make sense of things. He could almost feel the gears in his head miss and grind against each other: maybe it was just a friendly pat, the kind football players exchanged. Maybe it was a thing from whatever colony or ship or where ever the heck Shepard was from. Maybe he was… from Bekenstien or whatever, folks there were supposed to be pretty casually free with their hands. Maybe this was Shepard's extremely terrible attempt at camaraderie again. 

Then Shepard said: "You're pretty shameless, aren't you, James?" and he did not just squeeze James' ass; he slid his thumb down James' crack, pressing the fabric of his pants hard into it. This time James did let go, turning fast on Shepard, hands automatically raised in guard position. 

"What the hell, Shepard?" 

Shepard stood up straight and crossed his arms over his chest. "Just assessing my war assets." 

James fumbled hopelessly for some reply, still incapable of reconciling the Commander Shepard he knew and respected with the Commander Shepard who had just felt the hell out of his ass. And then made _that_ kind of reply. He was still half-waiting for Shepard to start laughing at him, or for Cortez to pop out from behind the Kodiak, or for some announcement that Joker would be showing the vid of his reaction tomorrow at breakfast in the mess. 

But before James could come up with anything that might make sense, Shepard turned around and left the shuttle bay, leaving him with nothing but an open mouth and a slightly dirtied feeling. 

#

The last straw was the time Shepard caught him in the men's room, fresh out of the shower. He had a towel around his waist and not much else when Shepard strolled in. Shepard had been completely normal since the last incident, so James did his best to be equally cool; Shepard was still his CO, of course, and maybe he'd just been…drunk or something, the night in the shuttle bay. James hadn't smelled any alcohol, but… 

He almost had himself convinced until Shepard walked right up to him and put a hand on his pecs, just along his breastbone. James froze just long enough for Shepard to slide his fingers downward, along his hard stomach and down to the edge of the towel, tugging. 

Man he respected or not, James couldn't stop himself. He threw a punch. In the split second it took for his wet fist and arm to slide harmlessly off Shepard's impossibly fast block, he realized how much Shepard had been toying with him when they'd sparred. A moment later Shepard was twisting his arm up behind his back, forcing him down onto his knees onto the tiled floor of the restroom. James expected to be reprimanded for attacking a superior officer; he expected Shepard to call security. What he didn't expect was the feel of a hard cock being pressed up against his back, or Shepard's mouth hot on his neck as the commander knelt behind him. And then the hand, the invading, intruding hand, on his cock this time, groping him through the towel, feeling out the shape of him, giving him one hard stroke and another. 

He reached for Shepard's hands but then they were gone. The weight and heat of Shepard behind him was gone, and he felt the towel slipping down around his hips.

James looked up to find Shepard looking down on him. There was a faint smile on the commander's face, and it sent a shiver through James. He couldn't help but think of Shepard's early words to him: "It's my ship. I go where I want, talk to whomever I want." No quarter given, in those words. Change that _talk_ to _take_ and… 

"That will be all, lieutenant," Shepard said. 

It took James a full five seconds to leap to his feet and shout "What the fuck was that?", but by then, Shepard was gone. 

#

It was three days before he worked up the courage to confront Shepard. He would have preferred to do it somewhere less private than Shepard's quarters, but he couldn't take the embarrassment of Cortez or someone else overhearing. So he asked Traynor to let him know when the commander was up in his cabin and when she gave him the heads up, he marched himself to the upper level before he could lose his nerve. 

He hadn't asked Traynor to inform Shepard that he was on his way, but somehow Shepard was waiting for him in the doorway as soon as he stepped off the lift. 

"James," Shepard said, and nodded. 

"Commander." James was caught off guard; the angry speech he had prepared fell to pieces. "I--uh. Look. We need to talk." 

"This isn't the best time."

James felt his courage returning. "Look, I know it's kind of out of line, but I don't really care if it's not the best time. We need to talk. _Ahorita_." 

Shepard crossed his arms. "Fine. Then come on in."

He stepped aside. James hurried into the cabin, trying to reassemble his speech. It rapidly became a futile effort, however, when he turned a corner and found himself facing a very naked Kaidan standing spread-eagled in the commander's shower, palms pressed against the far wall. 

"Oh, _Dios_. I. Uh. _Mierda._ Okay, maybe, not the best time." He started to back away and backed straight into Shepard, who reached around him and tapped the shower door controls. 

"Don't move," Shepard told Kaidan, as the doors closed. His eyes were cold and amused as he looked back at James. "You insisted. So talk." 

James felt heat creeping up his neck and over his chest and across his face. "I'll be, uh, quick." He cleared his throat. He couldn't meet Shepard's eyes, much as he knew he had to. "Look, you've been, um. Kind of, you know. A bit." He balked. "Touchy feely lately. I just." He shrugged. "It's not exactly cool with me, Shepard." He tore his gaze away from the floor and forced himself to look in Shepard's face. "I mean, I guess you're a pretty good-looking guy, and all, but I'm not even sure I swing that way, right? So, uh, maybe you're better off, you know, with somebody else. Like. You know who. In the shower. And I'll be going now--"

Shepard caught James' shoulder, stopping him cold. "You should know by now that I'm not fond of games, lieutenant." 

James frowned. "Yeah, well, I don't think I'm particularly fond of them right now, either. So how about I just go and--"

Shepard looked James over in a way that made him feel five centimetres tall. "Since my actions weren't loud enough for you, I'll come out and say it. I want to fuck you, James Vega."

James knew his face was beet red. It wasn't a particularly flattering look, either--he'd seen it in the mirror once or twice--his tattoos stark black against red skin. "I'm, I'm flattered, really, Commander, but I--"

"Maybe I should reword that. I'm _going_ to fuck you, James." This time Shepard accompanied his words with action; he reached out and gripped the front of James' pants, and squeezed. James was startled to find himself half-hardening under Shepard's hold. Shepard snorted. "And I don't think you mind as much as you're saying you do."

"Shepard--" 

The hand on James' dick began moving, stroking him through the thick fabric of his pants. "No, you don't mind at all, do you?" Shepard took a step forward, driving James back. "You've been giving me a show since the first day you came on board the Normandy. Inviting me to 'dance.' Pushing your ass into my hand any chance you get."

"What the hell--I haven't--" James choked on his words as Shepard reached around, grabbing his ass with both hands, pulling their hips together. Fingers stroked down between his buttocks, along the seam of his pants, pressing it hard against his tailbone, and then lower down, against his asshole. Shepard's hard cock ground against his own, and despite himself, James groaned. 

He made an attempt to free himself, but it was half-hearted and futile, hips jerking forward, and then back, caught between Shepard's hands and his cock. Big as he was, James should have been able to throw Shepard easy, but he couldn't; and he couldn't say how much of that was his own unwillingness to do so, and how much was Shepard's strength and skill. He pried at Shepard's hands, but Shepard's hold was like iron, his whole body far stronger than James' would have thought to look at it; all the cybernetics, maybe, that he sometimes caught glowing in the back of Shepard's eyes, under the surface of his skin. That shone faintly red now as Shepard smiled. 

Cold currents of fear slid down the back of James' neck and down his spine even as his cock turned rock hard against Shepard. 

"Shepard. Commander. Fuck. Don't."

And just like that, Shepard released him, sending him stumbling back into Shepard's desk, knocking the model ships off their delicate perches. Shepard's lips curled. 

"Don't tell me. You're some kind of Catholic priest? Saving yourself for marriage? Chaste?"

James reddened even further. "I'm not a virgin, if that's what you're trying to say."

"But you 'don't know' if you fuck guys."

"I've never. With a guy. There was I mean, this drunk thing. With Esteban and--never mind." The words tumbled out of James, unbidden. He didn't know why he was telling Shepard about Steve; he'd never told anyone. "We didn't. I didn't know if I. Yeah." 

Shepard snorted. "Well now you'll find out." 

He advanced again, and James scrambled back against the desk, but Shepard had him cornered. Boxing him in with sheer presence more than anything else, Shepard pinned him and tugged his zipper down, pulling his trousers low around his hips, showing teeth at his white boxer-briefs. Shepard's fingers were warm and rough as they pulled James out of the flap in his briefs, and James groaned out loud as Shepard palmed him, then pumped him. His head fell back against the rear wall, framed on either side by the abandoned model supports, and he shuddered as Shepard jerked him off. 

With his free hand, Shepard slid James' shirt up, up, up until it was bunched up under his armpits, his pecs exposed; and then Shepard's mouth closed hard over one nipple, teeth rasping against it, tongue lathing over it. James jerked and a ridiculous _giggle_ escaped him--Shepard's attentions sent an unbearable tickle shooting from his chest through his cock and down to the bottoms of his feet, leaving him writhing and fighting until Shepard shoved him back up against the wall with one hand in the middle of his chest before resuming his attack. Pinned, James was reduced to moaning as the tickle turned into pleasure, the rough rasp of Shepard's stubbled upper lip and chin almost torturous against his chest. Shepard's fingers found his cock again and James fucked himself hard into Shepard's fist, getting closer and closer until he was trembling, on the verge of coming, and then Shepard let go of him, left him fucking the air and his chest bare and cold and begging:

"--the fuck, why'd you stop, _dios_ , fuck. Fuck."

And Shepard laughed, a cool, restrained laugh that made James want to fall onto his knees and beg and also want to flee as fast as he could. "Thought you didn't want this." 

James knew then that this was his chance, that if he wanted out, now was the time. He could walk right out the door. Probably lose whatever respect Shepard had for him, after caving this far and then chickening out, but probably keep his own self-respect. Or he could say what Shepard wanted. He looked up, met Shepard's eyes. 

"This is your ship," he said. "Doesn't matter what I want." 

He had time to think _What the hell are you doing, James?_ and then Shepard leaned in close, so close that James could feel the warm damp of his breath in his ear. 

"Good boy," he whispered, and then he leaned down and kissed James' neck, hard, sucking, claiming kisses, sure to leave bright red marks that James would have to explain away in the morning. 

Shepard's praise provoked a surge of pride in James, even though he knew it was mocking. He kicked himself for it. This sure as fuck wasn't a round of drinks at the bar; a naked major spread-eagled and probably listening from inside the shower was the absolute opposite of a pair of hot asari twins. Creepy. And yet… 

"Take this off." Shepard's voice hauled James out of his thoughts. He twisted a fistful of James' shirt in one hand. "Take everything off. You're a mess." 

He moved off of James and James' fickle glow of pride evaporated; now there was disdain in Shepard's face, disapproval. "You're the one who did this," came and went on James' lips, swallowed down with a dry, nervous click. 

Glancing down at himself, he saw he _was_ a mess, shirt rucked up to show off his chest, his trousers sagging down around his thighs, his heavy, hard cock poking out the front flap of his briefs, wet pre-cum darkening the fronts and the waistband and shiny on his belly. He hurriedly stripped, shrugging out of the shirt, kicking his trousers free before shoving down his underpants. 

When he looked back up Shepard was staring at him, predatory. The faint red glow behind his pupils was back, and he swept his gaze slowly over James, like some Krogan warlord eyeing up coveted territory. Shepard's eyes lingered over the muscled columns of James' thighs, the heavy hang of his balls and cock, drawing upwards, over James' sculpted chest, his shoulders and his thick neck, up until he looked James in the face. His smile was more of a sneer than anything else. 

James felt inexplicably like prey. 

"Turn around," Shepard said.

The creeping fingers of fear returned to the back of James' neck and tightened in his groin, twisting this time with need as he obeyed Shepard. He swore he could feel Shepard's eyes burning over his back, judging his triceps and delts and lats, assessing his ass and his calves. 

A shaky breath escaped James, and he wondered again what the hell he was doing. He should have cut and run when he had the chance. 

"Bend over," Shepard said, "And put your hands on the desk."

James balked, his stomach sinking. It hadn't really hit him until now that when Shepard said fucking him, he might mean, well, _fucking him._ Bending him over and pushing his cock inside him and taking him…

"Shepard, I don't know--"

"Bend over, lieutenant," Shepard barked, and James snapped-to, did as he was told. The desk was cool and smooth under his palms, and he wanted to press his burning cheek against it, but he didn't dare. 

James had never felt so utterly naked. Completely exposed, ass in the air… he had to look more than a little ridiculous. What was he doing? What the hell was he doing? And what the hell was Shepard doing, just standing there, looking…?

There was the sharp grind of a zipper being pulled down. James clenched his teeth. He was suddenly, overwhelmingly nervous, more nervous than first time he'd made out with a girl back behind his uncle's place, put his shaking hand up under her skirt and felt the warm softness of her panties against his fingertips. He waited for the feel of Shepard's fingers on him, on his back, on his hips, pressing up against his ass again… but there was nothing. Nothing but the dry soft sound of skin on skin. James groaned at the image of Shepard behind him, just watching him as he stroked his cock. He started to look back, but Shepard said, sharply: 

"Don't move."

Shepard's boots were too loud on the cabin floor as he moved. Fear jittering through him again, James tried to track how close Shepard was by the sound of his footsteps, but his movements were unclear, confused. Then he heard the sound of the shower door hissing open.

"Out. Now." 

For a moment James was confused, and then he realized Shepard was speaking to Kaidan. James had forgotten all about him. Blushing so hard his ears were burning, James started to push back from the desk. 

"I said don't move, lieutenant. Get back into position!" 

James instantly obeyed, before his brain had time to process the order. He hoped the second hiss he heard was the main cabin door opening to let Kaidan out; he already had no idea how the hell he'd ever look the major in the eye again. 

"Good," Shepard said. "Good. Like that." 

A rough hand cupped James' left buttock. James shivered, feeling his cock growing hard again at the touch. Another hand pressed up against James' right; then spread his buttocks apart. James risked shifting his weight forward until his forehead touched the desk. He'd never felt so vulnerable. 

He jerked upright as something hot and wet flicked against his asshole. 

"Stay down!" Shepard growled. "I won't say it again, James." 

James' cock twitched hard against his belly at Shepard's tone. He fought desperately to obey as the tongue flicked against him again, questing, tentative. He had time to think: _Why so shy?_ , almost laughing, and then the tongue pushed against the tight ring of his ass and obliterated all his awkward thoughts. It circled once around him, eliciting a groan from him, and then stabbed again, and again, until it was working its way inside of him. James didn't have to fight to stay down anymore; he was falling forward, his legs spreading apart slightly, all his weight against the desk as Shepard thoroughly explored him. 

" _Asi…si… Dios mio, Loco,_ that feels… Oh, fuck it feels…" 

"You like that, lieutenant? Thought you would."

James' eyes flew open; the tongue was still slick against him, but Shepard was speaking. He craned his neck to see Shepard standing over him, hand on the head of the man enthusiastically licking James: Kaidan. Shepard was guiding Kaidan, urging him on with a fist in his hair, pressing him forward against James; his eyes were shining with pleasure and his cock stood hard and red and proud from the gap in his unzipped pants. 

"Fuck," James moaned, and Shepard looked up, saw him looking. The next thing James knew he was being slammed face-first into the desk, Shepard's fingers pinching hard into the back of his neck. But Shepard didn't reprimand him otherwise. His words were all for Kaidan, and they were eager and vicious, hungry. 

"Clean him out for me, major. Get him good and ready for me. Good and wet. That's good, major. Fuck him with your tongue. Deeper. Deeper."

James could hear Kaidan's urgent noises, feel Kaidan's groans and whimpers between his licks. He was practically panting himself. Kaidan had a fucking amazing tongue. Shepard's fingers dug harder into James' neck and James moaned, half in protest, half in encouragement. 

"All right, that's enough."

Kaidan moved off of James and James bit his lip against the needy noise that slipped out of him. He didn't manage to cut it off in time, and Shepard laughed. 

"He's fucking eager for it, isn't he, Kaidan? Just like you used to be." Another moan from Kaidan. James desperately wanted to look back, but Shepard had a death grip on him. "The lieutenant is a good little soldier, aren't you? So desperate to please your commander." Shepard's grip eased, fingers rubbing slow circles along James' skin. Helplessly, he sighed with pleasure. "You could learn a thing or two, Kaidan. Remember a thing or two. Remember how to be my good dog."

"I'm not--," James started, but Shepard cut him off with another pinch before turning the abuse into a soft caress. He stroked down along James' spine to his lower back, slid his palm over the curve of James' ass. Shepard's voice dropped to a low growl. 

"Don't worry, James. I can see right through you. Talking back to get my attention. Showing off your body with your tight shirts and your 'work outs' while I'm walking by. Don't worry. Now you're going to get what you've been begging for."

James moaned and curled his fingers uselessly against the desktop as Shepard's thumb brushed against his hole, through the slick of Kaidan's spit, and then pressed into James. It was an awkward, strange feeling that nonetheless made James' cock throb and his balls tighten. He curled his face against his bicep, panting hard. 

"Shepard," he gasped, and he sounded desperate even to himself, lost and needy and confused. 

The thumb slid out and was replaced by Shepard's fingers; more than one, for sure, but James couldn't guess how many. They felt too big, and the electric jolt as they brushed against a spot deep inside him made him rise up on his toes, jerk away. 

"Shepard," he repeated, sweat dampening the back of his neck and weirdly, the backs of his knees. "I--"

Shepard's mouth brushed the back of his neck, stubble like the kiss of sandpaper on his skin, lightly stinging. 

"If you say you can't," Shepard murmured, "I'll put my whole fist inside you."

Shepard's fingers twisted inside of James, slipped in and out of him more and more aggressively, until he was almost crawling on the desk, groaning for Shepard to slow down, to go faster, to go harder, to go easy on him, to--

Shepard slipped his fingers out, laughing. 

"Clean them off, and get him wet again," he said; James snuck a look and saw Kaidan, still on his knees, mouthing Shepard's fingers. He seemed reluctant at first, but then his eyelids fluttered closed and he grew more enthusiastic, sucking and licking eagerly, until Shepard pulled his fingers free and grabbed Kaidan's head and steered him back towards James' ass. 

Shepard caught James looking, and he smiled. 

"Maybe he's right, Kaidan. What do you think? Maybe he's not ready for me just yet. Maybe I should let you fuck him, major. Start him off easy."

That old stubborn streak reared up in James. "Fuck you," he said. "I can take you on." After the words were out of his mouth, he realized too late what he'd just invited. And that it was probably right in line with Shepard's evil plan. 

Shepard released Kaidan's hair and strode up to the desk, that wicked smile still twisting his mouth, and James thought he knew just how Shepard had earned a nickname like the Butcher of Torfan. He was one scary motherfucker. 

"Is that what you think, lieutenant?" 

James set his jaw. If he was going to go down in flames, he was going down with his head held high. 

Then Shepard grabbed the back of his head and pulled him forward, until he had a full view of Shepard's cock and not much else. The commander was impressive in more ways than James had ever suspected. He was, nicely put, extremely well hung. James groaned as Shepard rubbed his dick against James' lips. He was going down, all right, in a very different sense of the word. Without much other choice, he parted his lips, let Shepard push into his mouth. 

"Teeth," Shepard growled. "Watch your teeth, lieutenant." 

Maybe Kaidan could show him how to do that, too, James thought irritably, gagging as Shepard hit the back of his throat. He hastily wrapped a hand around the base of Shepard's cock, trying to make up for all that he couldn't swallow. He'd had a few girlfriends pull that trick on him and he never minded much. Tried to ease back, concentrate on the soft heat of Shepard's cockhead, the rich, salty taste at the tip and the slight musky smell of his skin. Let his other hand slide between Shepard's thighs, cup the cooler weight of his balls, moving back…

Shepard caught James' wrist. "I don't think so." He frowned. "I can see I'm going to have to do a lot of training with you, James." 

James grinned up at Shepard. "Thought you said I was the good one--"

Shepard ignored him. "Kaidan."

Kaidan crawled over on his hands and knees. James looked away, feeling embarrassed on the major's behalf as much as his own, but he still caught the glare Kaidan gave him: something jealous, possessive. 

"You're welcome to him," James muttered, and then he yelped as Shepard grabbed his jaw, brought him nearly face-to-face with Kaidan. Kaidan was already hard at work, nibbling and licking up one side of Shepard's cock, bathing him with his tongue. Shepard growled with pleasure and James' competitive side stirred to life. Hell if he'd let the major outdo him. 

As on the battlefield, where Kaidan outstripped him in experience, James made up for it with bullheaded enthusiasm. After a moment's hesitation, he dove in, dragging his mouth along the base of Shepard's cock, bracing himself with one hand against Shepard's hip. He buried his face against Shepard, tasting the cooler, salty musk of his balls just below, feeling the scratch of curled hairs against his nose and cheek. He briefly closed his lips against the inside of Shepard's thigh, then moved back up along the length of Shepard's cock, curling his tongue along the flared rim, flicking over the slit and easing it partway into his mouth. 

With a low, approving noise, Shepard ran a hand over James' short cropped hair, pressed him closer, and James felt vindicated. 

Then a wet heat slid against his lower lip: Kaidan moving in to claim Shepard from him, or share with him, or something that James was not ready to comprehend as it turned into Kaidan kissing him hard. James felt his body go electric as Kaidan scraped teeth over his lower lip, devouring his mouth, plunging his tongue in deep to smother James' startled protest. 

Shepard took them both, sliding his hard cock between their joined lips, fucking their kiss. 

James went hard as the Normandy's hull, and every last bit of self-restraint went with it. While Kaidan and Shepard jointly had their way with this mouth, he reached back and took himself in hand. 

The pleasure of contact on his cock at last, even his own fingers, was enough to make him shudder violently and moan. Any hope he had of going unnoticed was instantly obliterated, but he was beyond caring. Half-mad with need, he stroked himself with increasing urgency, needing desperately to come. He was close, so close, just a little more--

Shepard didn't shout, didn't sound angry, just laid out the words like a battlefield order, sharp and matter-of-fact. "That's enough, lieutenant."

James had every intention of coming anyway, but the moment was gone; he groaned with frustration, crouching there shamefaced and stupid with his dick in his hand, a dog caught humping its master's leg for the third time in a night. 

Shepard's caress was for Kaidan this time, while he looked down on James. "If you wanted to come, James, all you had to do was ask." The amusement in his voice made the all the hairs on James' arms stand up.

"Fuck, please, Commander. I can't--I need--"

"You need what?"

The flush was back again, spreading from James' cheeks down over his shoulders and across his pecs, down to his belly. "I need to… Come. _Please_."

Shepard smiled. He crouched down beside James, wrapped his fingers around James' cock. James moaned, trying to move in Shepard's grasp, but the commander's hand tightened almost to the point of pain. "If you had asked first instead of trying to get one past me, I would have said yes. But now… I don't think so. Now I think I want to hear you beg." 

"Oh God… Commander… Please."

"Not good enough." 

Releasing him, Shepard stood. James made a strangled noise of protest that Shepard utterly ignored. He loomed over James as he pushed his trousers the rest of the way off, then stripped his top off. He _was_ a good-looking man, scars and all. 

James felt like a single raw nerve, electric with fear and lust and anticipation.

"On your hands and knees. Ass in the air. And if you touch yourself again, I'll tie you up and leave you like this in the mess hall. Or maybe you'd like that too much, hm, James?"

James shook his head, scrambling to get on his hands and knees. Prowling around him like he was performing a military inspection, Shepard pressed down on James' head until he was almost kowtowing, kicked his knees wider apart.

"Good," he said. "Stay."

Awkwardly positioned with his forehead to the ground, facing back, James saw Kaidan kneel behind him. He held his breath, expecting to feel the damp exploration of the Kaidan's tongue again, but it never came. Instead, Shepard positioned himself behind Kaidan. 

"Finally ready to accept your place on this ship, Major?" Shepard's question to Kaidan was low, as if not meant for James' ears. Kaidan made a soft, affirmative noise. Then he gasped, and whispered, 

"Yes, Commander."

A moment later Kaidan was moaning as Shepard growled, "God you're tight." View obscenely framed by his spread thighs, James watched as Shepard began to fuck the major, hard. There was the sharp slap of flesh on flesh, Kaidan's body rocking forward each time Shepard pounded into him. James groaned and curled his hands into fists, his dick twitching against his abs. It was intolerable, just having to watch; he didn't know if he wanted to be the one fucking or the one being fucked, but he wanted it, _now_ , wanted something, a touch, a finger in his ass or a hand around his cock or both. It was taking every bit of the considerable strength in his body not to touch himself. Just a few quick jerks, that would be all it took: his own hand or Shepard's or even Kaidan's. His hips twitched, humping uselessly against the air. He could hear Kaidan getting closer to release, the major's voice rising, his cries almost becoming a whine, begging now the way James wanted to beg: _fuckmeShepardohgodharderYESlikethatIfuckingneedyourcockinmefuckI'msorryIfuckfuckfucknowCommandersircommanderpleaselet me--_

"Come for me, Kaidan," Shepard said, like he was saying _Take us down, Cortez_ , like he was saying _Keep an eye on our six, Vega_. And James saw Kaidan shudder violently, felt the hot liquid spatter of Kaidan's cum hit the back of his thighs, heard Kaidan screaming Shepard's name. James moaned with jealousy and greed and want, and as Kaidan's ecstatic cries died down, he heard himself saying, 

"Shepard, please…"

With Kaidan still struggling to catch his breath underneath him, Shepard asked, "Please what, lieutenant?" His tone was far more even than it should have been; he was still buried inside of Kaidan, now and then lazily thrusting. He stroked Kaidan's softening flesh, earning another violent tremor from Kaidan, another hiccupping gasp of pleasure. 

James wanted that hand on him more than anything. He could barely make words come out, and when they did, they weren't in English. " _Cogeme… quiero que me cojan_."

"I'm afraid I don't speak Spanish."

James groaned. "Oh god, you bastard, just do it. Please. Fuck me."

Shepard pulled out of Kaidan with a slick, wet sound. The major moved aside, collapsing bonelessly under the desk. Shepard's fingertips trailed over Kaidan's hip before he settled himself behind James. 

Hard flesh pressed against James and the noise that came out of him was pure need. Shepard rolled his hips once, sliding his dick along the cleft of James' ass. He clenched his eyes shut, breathing hard, shivering. 

"And you said you didn't want this." Shepard was almost purring. "Now listen to you. You sound like a sweet little whore. Is this what you want, James?" Shepard pulled back, rubbing himself against James' entrance. "My cock inside you? Filling you up, stretching your virgin ass open? Claiming you all for myself?"

James was beyond words, nodding mutely while his breath came out in sharp, desperate gasps. 

"Then tell me, James. Beg me."

James face burned. It was easier to say in Spanish, when he knew Kaidan, at least, couldn't understand. Shepard moved again, circling tip of his cock harder against James' asshole, sliding and teasing. James vibrated, everything inside him strained and taut, waiting to snap. He had never felt like this before, so out of control, so _hungry_ for someone. Never wanted anything as badly as he wanted Shepard right now, Shepard _inside_ him, on him, fucking him, taking him, using him... 

James swallowed, hard.

All he had to do was say it. Just words, what did it matter? Just words--only. More than that. Every grope leading up to this had been Shepard circling in on him. Marking his territory, staking claim. Making James his own. 

"Fuck, Shepard, please. I can't."

"Right." The disappointment in Shepard's voice cut James to the quick, even as Shepard slowly shifted himself back, the burning heat of his body withdrawing. The last remnant of James' pride crumbled. Desperation tumbled over his lips, out of him, laid him naked and needy in front of Shepard.

"No, _fuck_ , wait, Shepard, please. I want… I want…I want you to fuck me, okay? Want you _in me_. To… to fuck me into the ground until I can't walk straight… Till I'm fucking losing my mind more than I already am… I want you to cum inside me, fill me up, I… Goddammit, _please_ , Shepard, _Metemela… Todo adentro. Cogeme rico. Por favor. Todo… Todo mi esto es tuyo._ "

Shepard laughed. His lips were warm and soft against the nape of James' sweaty neck. Affectionate, even. "Good boy," he murmured. "My good little soldier." 

He leaned back, spreading James apart with his hands before pushing inside him, slowly, slowly, still slick with whatever lube he'd used with Kaidan. James all but mewled as Shepard opened him up, filling him up impossibly, inch by inch, splitting him open. 

James gasped. " _Dios_ , Commander… You're fucking… _huge_ …"

Shepard laughed again, not letting up, if anything pressing in deeper faster, until he was buried hilt-deep in James, claiming him. The weird, dizzying sense of fullness swept over James again and his cock throbbed, twitching hard against his abs, dripping pre-cum. When Shepard hit that electric spot inside him James jerked up onto his toes, thought he might come right then and there. 

"So tight." Shepard's voice was all approval, sending currents of warmth curling all through James. "I can tell nobody's been inside your sweet ass before." He caressed James' ass, as if to underline his point, over the swell of his glutes and down the backs of his thighs. "Nobody else can have this, lieutenant. No matter how many other men fuck your tight hole, I was first. You gave yourself to me." He twitched his hips and James whimpered, cock throbbing. 

Shepard fell heavily against his back, arms wrapping around his waist. His palms smoothed over James' belly, alongside James' cock but never touching it. He pulled sharply out of James and then sank deep inside of him again. His lips moved over the back of James' neck.

"I love seeing you like this, James. So fucking greedy for my cock. If we weren't in this war, I'd keep you like this forever, touch you and suck you and fuck you whenever I wanted…"

James moaned, reduced to incoherence, spreading his thighs apart further, raising his ass to give Shepard better access as he moved back to meet him. Shepard picked up his pace, thrusting harder, faster. James' breathing turned ragged, short fast gasps punctuated with grunts as Shepard pounded into him. The grunts became words, became: "Please, Shepard, please, please, please, Shepard, please…"

"Please what?" Shepard dragged teeth over the knob of his spine. James knew Shepard knew the answer, knew that he would have to say it anyway. 

"Please let me come. Oh god, Shepard. I need… I need to come. Please let me."

In answer, Shepard rammed into him harder, drove him until he was hoarse from screaming Shepard's name. Then Shepard's hand curled around his cock and he almost wept with the pleasure of it. "There's a good boy," Shepard purred. His tongue traced a hot trail along the curve of James' ear, his voice lowering to a husky, imperative whisper. " _Vente,_ lieutenant."

The world tipped and everything exploded; James shouted incoherently, spilling all over Shepard's fingers, groaning. He felt as if he was unraveling, as if all the tension and nervousness and fear and need was a single loose thread that Shepard was ruthlessly ripping free. Cum spattered hot across his stomach and over his pecs, a single hot drip running down his elbow. He had never come so hard in his life. 

He wanted to fall to the floor and lie there for a hundred years, but Shepard wasn't done with him yet; not giving him a moment to come down, Shepard jerked James into a better position and began fucking him in earnest, hammering into him furiously, driving him into the floor until he was gibbering and begging again, never sure if he wanted Shepard to keep going harder, more, faster, or to stop, or to do all of the above. It didn't matter anyway; he didn't matter anymore. Shepard was going to take until he was done, and the thought made James want to curl up and moan and spread his legs wider and drive himself back and--

Grabbing his hips, Shepard rammed into him so hard his teeth snapped together. Liquid heat flooded inside him, spilled out of him as Shepard came inside him, Shepard's nails digging into his skin, Shepard grinding his pelvis against James' ass as if he could bury himself even deeper. Eventually he eased up, slowly rocking himself against James, a long, pleased sigh draining out of him. 

Shepard kissed the back of James' neck, that strange affection returning before he braced one hand against James' ass and pulled out. 

Sliding forward, James collapsed against the floor, feeling empty in a way he'd never felt before. He groped back for Shepard, maybe to catch his fingers, touch his thigh, but found nothing. When he rolled onto his back and looked up, Shepard was standing, his attention back on Kaidan. He gestured toward the shower, and as Kaidan stood, Shepard's hand curled along the back of Kaidan's neck in a way that reminded James of what he had intruded on earlier. The message in Shepard's body language was all too clear: he was done with James, now.

Trying to swallow the sense that he'd been used--no longer in a good way--James scooted into a sitting position, began to pull his clothes together, confusion and embarrassment creeping over him. He tried to mop himself off with his shirt, the wet slick on the back of his thighs and between them, on his belly and chest. Tugged his underwear and trousers on even as his body ached, the emptiness spreading through him. Gathering up his boots and filthied shirt, he tried to slink past Shepard and Kaidan to the exit.

"James."

He looked up. Shepard was standing just inside the doorway to the shower. He nodded at James, a smile playing over his lips. "That was good, lieutenant." 

James grinned back despite himself, automatic. "Hey, well..." _Maybe next time we're at the Citadel you can buy me a drink,_ he was going to say, but Shepard wasn't finished.

"But I'll expect better in the future. Dismissed."

The shower door closed on James, cutting him off from Shepard. James scowled, trying to crush the chaos of emotions that roiled through him.

"Fuck. James Vega," he muttered, "you are absolutely no fucking way _ever_ doing this again."

But hobbling out to the elevator, he knew he'd be back. He was already imagining it: a club on the Citadel, Shepard telling the whole bar what a good little soldier James was. And James doing his best to prove it, on his knees under the table…


End file.
